‘Not they,’ said I, ’they were,
I daresay, thinking too much of themselves and of
their own concerns to have divined any secrets of
yours. All I mean to say is, they had probably
secrets of their own, and who knows that the secret
sin of more than one of them was not the very sin
which caused you so much misery?’

‘Dost thou then imagine,’ said Peter,
’the sin against the Holy Ghost to be so common
an occurrence?’

‘As you have described it,’ said I, ’of
very common occurrence, especially amongst children,
who are, indeed, the only beings likely to commit
it.’

‘Truly,’ said Winifred, ‘the young
man talks wisely.’

Peter was silent for some moments, and appeared to
be reflecting; at last, suddenly raising his head,
he looked me full in the face, and, grasping my hand
with vehemence, he said, ’Tell me, young man,
only one thing, hast thou, too, committed the sin
against the Holy Ghost?’

‘I am neither Papist nor Methodist,’ said
I, ’but of the Church, and, being so, confess
myself to no one, but keep my own counsel; I will tell
thee, however, had I committed, at the same age, twenty
such sins as that which you committed, I should feel
no uneasiness at these years—­but I am sleepy,
and must go to rest.’

‘God bless thee, young man,’ said Winifred.

CHAPTER LXXVIII

Low and calm—­Much better—­Blessed
effect—­No answer—­Such a sermon.

Before I sank to rest I heard Winifred and her husband
conversing in the place where I had left them; both
their voices were low and calm. I soon fell
asleep, and slumbered for some time. On my awakening
I again heard them conversing, but they were now in
their cart; still the voices of both were calm.
I heard no passionate bursts of wild despair on the
part of the man. Methought I occasionally heard
the word Pechod proceeding from the lips of each,
but with no particular emphasis. I supposed they
were talking of the innate sin of both their hearts.

‘I wish that man were happy,’ said I to
myself, ’were it only for his wife’s sake,
and yet he deserves to be happy for his own.’

The next day Peter was very cheerful, more cheerful
than I had ever seen him. At breakfast his conversation
was animated, and he smiled repeatedly. I looked
at him with the greatest interest, and the eyes of
his wife were almost constantly fixed upon him.
A shade of gloom would occasionally come over his
countenance, but it almost instantly disappeared;
perhaps it proceeded more from habit than anything
else. After breakfast he took his Welsh Bible
and sat down beneath a tree. His eyes were soon
fixed intently on the volume; now and then he would
call his wife, show her some passage, and appeared
to consult with her. The day passed quickly
and comfortably.

‘Your husband seems much better,’ said
I, at evening fall, to Winifred, as we chanced to
be alone.